A birthday’s just another day that makes me stand apart From other normals who fear that they’ll become an old fart I do not hide my age when asked, I don’t say, “Nevermind!” I’m proud of every year I’ve lived, even the ones unkind I’m proud of every silver strand that grows into my mane I’m proud of vascularity, each big, protruding vein I’m proud of every grey whisker that grows into my beard Every wrinkle, ache and pain and other thing that’s feared By those who wish time would stand still, A WARRIOR am I The passing of the hour glass does not make this man cry For time is precious, every year that’s passed has been a gift And I appreciate it more now that it goes by swift Load the cake with candles, the inferno won’t scare me To dread a birthday makes one an ingrate to high degree Joke about, “You’re getting old!” I’ll joke back, “I’ve endured! And will continue to do so, my passion can’t be cured!” They’ll warn, “Oh wait ‘till you slow down, oh wait ‘till you’re like me!” “NEVER!” I’ll quickly reply, “A WARRIOR is me!” Never bowing to defeat, never giving an inch With every candle on the cake I will not cringe or flinch “Bring it on!” the Warrior says, all things which pose a threat “Bring it on because you have not seen anything yet!”